Compare and Contrast
by ElaineMc
Summary: Qui-Gon offers his padawan reassurance about *his* padawan.


Compare and Contrast

TITLE: Compare and Contrast   
DISCLAIMER: LucasFilms owns all. I'm just borrowing.   
SUMMARY: The more things change, blah blah biddy blah. For Julia [[julndan@stormnet.com][1]], who asked about an Obi-Wan / Anakin story. Unfortunately, I can't seem to **write** that. Still, we do what we can. 

The Jedi stood in the doorway, arms folded into his sleeves. The many windows lining the corridor showed the Coruscant skyline, slowly darkening, providing the starry heavens as a backdrop. His expressive blue eyes surveyed the room, seeking his master. And, finding him, Obi-Wan Kenobi said, in his quiet, cultured voice, "I may burst into tears."

Qui-Gon Jinn looked up. "Well, don't do it in the hall. Come in, Obi-Wan."

His former apprentice did so, pulling his cloak off and tossing it on the back of the sofa before collapsing. "I can't believe I'm this **tired**. He's just a little boy."

"Mmmm." Qui-Gon went back to his reading pad. "Worn out, are you?"

"Exhausted." He glanced over at his master, who was apparently fascinated with a report. "The situation on Delagdry?"

"Yes. There's tea, if you like."

"I like." But he made no more to get it.

**A very bad day, then, **Qui-Gon diagnosed. Not entirely unwilling, he set aside his work, and moved to the sideboard to pour Obi-Wan a cup of hot tea, then refilled his own cup. He took a seat beside Obi-Wan on the sofa. "Here you are."

"Thank you, Master."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, really. That's what's so awful. It was a perfectly normal day. One in a string of them, I suppose."

"Mmmm."

"He asks the most impossible questions. He never sits still. He always wants to know something, or to do something, or to say something. We'll be going on our first assignment in two days, Master, and I can't imagine what I'm going to do. The trip itself will be nearly eighteen hours. Eighteen hours, with a hyperactive child." Obi-Wan shuddered.

"Mmmm."

"I know what you're thinking?"

"Oh?"

"You're thinking of every time I ever asked one question too many after a long day. You're thinking of every time I did something entirely inappropriate or strikingly self-destructive. You're thinking of the time with the Andorian ambassador's son. And you're thinking, Serve him right."

"You're a wise man."

Obi-Wan sat straight up, then, eyes slightly wild. Qui-Gon regarded him with a slightly quizzical expression, serene and untroubled. The younger man smiled, ruefully. "I don't feel as if I were. That's the worst, you know: I feel as if I'm completely and utterly not up to the work. Isn't there some training for this, Master? Some class to take, in Jedi Masterhood, perhaps? Some meditation that will provide me with wisdom and knowledge?"

"No, Obi-Wan."

"Didn't think so." Obi-Wan sank back again. "Master?"

"Yes?"

"Did you ever feel like that? As if you were entirely unqualified for your work?"

"Did I? Let's see... no, not often."

Obi-Wan sighed.

Qui-Gon considered. "Only once or twice a day during the entire time you were my apprentice, I suppose."

Without sitting up again, Obi-Wan turned his head to look at the Master in shock. "Every **day**?"

"Mm-hmm."

"The **entire **time?"

"When the Sith... impaled me," Qui-Gon said, thoughtfully, "I remember very clearly my thought on the subject."

"I can't wait to hear this."

"As I faced my death, I thought to myself, 'Oooops. Didn't see **that** coming.' " 

Obi-Wan blinked. Qui-Gon's face was bland.

The younger man snickered, then sobered, horrified. "I'm sorry, Master. It isn't funny--"

"Well, it wasn't at the time," Qui-Gon agreed. "But there's a certain amount of humour in it now." He glanced at Obi-Wan. "I can see you're not convinced. It's been-- what? nearly six months, now?-- I've had plenty of time to see my mistakes. My over-confidence almost cost me my life; your competence saved it." The words 'thank you' remained unspoken; but were expressed, nonetheless.

Obi-Wan took a sip of his tea. 

"My point is, we are mortal, and fallible, my friend. You have many new and exciting mistakes ahead of you. Get used to it."

"Master?"

"Yes?"

"Please stop reassuring me."

Qui-Gon chuckled.

The next instant, the door slid open again, and a rather damp Anakin Skywalker, fresh from an evening children's swim time, rushed in. Obi-Wan twitched slightly.

"Hi, Master Qui-Gon! Master Obi-Wan, I had a **wizard** time! Master Tsanah let me go on the diving board, and, boy, did I make a splash. I kinda belly-flopped, though. Still, I made a big splash. A really big splash."

"I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself so much," Qui-Gon said, as soon as the child paused. "It's nearly your bedtime, though. Go and wash, and then a snack, and then bed." **For all of us,** he sent to Obi-Wan.

Anakin was outraged. "Wash **up**? But I've been in the pool for ages!"

"Now, Ani," Obi-Wan said, firmly.

"Yes, Master," was the meek reply. He bowed, then and hurried off. He was back in a few minutes, face pink from scrubbing. Obi-Wan had set a plate of biscuits and a glass of milk on the low table before the sofa; Ani helped himself, then climbed up next to his Master, suppressing a yawn.

"Looks as if everyone's had a long day," Qui-Gon said.

"Y'hv no idea," Ani managed, around a mouthful.

"Manners," Obi-Wan murmured. 

Ani swallowed, then took a drink of milk. "It's been **busy**, sir."

"That's the life of a Jedi," Qui-Gon said. "Sometimes, the busiest days happen right here at the Temple," he added, meditatively.

"Oh?" Ani asked. He leaned forward a little, recognising the note in the older Jedi's voice. Obi-Wan slumped; he knew what was coming, too.

"Absolutely. In fact, one of **my** busier days came about thanks to your master."

Ani grinned widely. The hour or so before bedtime, when he sat with both the Jedi, being talked to as if he were a grown-up, was probably his favourite time of day. And best of all were the times when Qui-Gon told stories about when Master Obi-Wan was a padawan. Hearing those stories made him respect and admire his Master even more, in fact; if Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of the Temple's finest Jedi, could make such mistakes and **still** be so wonderful, surely Ani himself could turn out well.

"How old were you, Obi-Wan? Nine or so, I suppose-- you'd been my student for less than a year, I remember that clearly; it was the most hectic year of my life."

"But this past year, sir, you almost--" Anakin cut himself off.

"Almost died, yes." Qui-Gon finished his sentence gently, but firmly, not wanting the boy to brood. "But trust me, Ani-- a near-death experience is easy to bear, compared to bringing up your Master...."

------- 

"We have a briefing after the lunch hour," Mace Windu said. "I know you won't be going with us to Hoth, but I thought you'd be interested."

"Oh, I am," Qui-Gon assured his friend.

"When will you be taking your padawan on your first mission?"

"Soon, I think. I'd like to see how he handles field work."

"Field work." Mace rolled his eyes. "Qui-Gon, he's a child. Try and remember that, hmm?"

"I know how old he is," Qui-Gon began.

"I know you know how old he is. But I don't think you know what that means."

"He's a very intelligent, responsible boy," Qui-Gon said firmly. "He's very mature for his age."

"Uh-huh."

"He **is**," Qui-Gon insisted.

"I'm sure he is. He's a great kid. But he **is** a kid. I don't think you have any idea what that means."

Resigned, Qui-Gon stopped walking, and leaned back against the wall of the corridor, out of the way of the other Jedi passing by. "But you're going to tell me, aren't you?"

"You've always been too serious. You know what they used to call you when we were kids?"

"Too Serious Jinn?"

"Ha, ha. No. They used to call you The Post. Because you'd just stand there, dead silent, like some big-- well, like some big **post**."

Qui-Gon stared at him, indignant. "They did **not**."

"Yes, they did."

"No, they **didn't**."

"Yes, they-- oh, for Force's sake." Mace surveyed the Jedi passing. He spotted a familiar face, and grabbed at the owner's arm. "Adric--"

"Whatever it is, no," snapped their former classmate, shrugging out of Mace's hold.

"I haven't even--"

"I don't care," Adric said, pushing a strand of golden hair out of his enormous grey eyes. "You two are trouble."

"Listen-- just tell us-- what did everyone call Jinn, when we were kids?"

Adric regarded Mace with the caution generally reserved for those suspected of psychological derangement. "Qui-Gon."

"Aha!" Qui-Gon said. 

Adric turned a similar look on him, then shook his head, settled his wings, and stalked off.

"You need mental help," Qui-Gon growled, and continued on his way.

"And you need kid help. I'm telling you, Qui-Gon, you can't think of him as being a really short adult."

"Obi-Wan is an extraordinarily competent young boy," Qui-Gon said, as they neared his quarters.

"I'm sure he is," Mace said, soothingly. "But he's a **boy**. That means he's going to get into trouble, sooner or later--"

"Mace...." Qui-Gon opened the door to his quarters. **Ah-- here he is, in fact. And busy on a project? See-- told you so!**

"Hello, Master Mace. Hello, Master Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan stood up very quickly from his place at the worktable. He positioned himself in front of it, and bowed.

"Hello, Obi-Wan. I'm glad to see you're keeping yourself occupied. Very adult of you," Qui-Gon said, approvingly, with a meaningful look at Mace.

"Well...."

"What **are** you working on?" Mace asked, noting the boy's sudden reticence.

"Well...."

All of Mace's internal alarms went off. He took a few steps forward, and looked at the array of parts scattered on the table top. **Some kind of casing ... several crystals... ring assembly...**

Qui-Gon joined him. "Hmmm."

"Uh, Qui-Gon? Where's your lightsaber?"

"I left it here; no need for it in the Temple," Qui-Gon replied. And then, the penny dropped.

------- 

"You took his **lightsaber** apart??" Ani gasped, overjoyed. "Whoa."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time..." Obi-Wan replied, voice muffled. During the course of the story, he had slid from the couch to the floor and buried his head in his arms. The back of his neck was bright red.

"I was greatly... impressed with his abilities," Qui-Gon said.

"Yes, those were the words you used, all right," Obi-Wan agreed, still not looking up.

------- 

"Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you lost your mind?" The question was posed mildly, but the boy winced. His Master was managing-- barely-- to keep his patience.

To Obi-Wan's relief, Mace Windu intervened. "Come, now, Qui-Gon. There's no right answer to a question like that."

"He just--"

"--took apart your lightsaber. I know. I can see that." **Did you promise to help him build one?**

Qui-Gon paused. **Well, yes.**

**And have you?**

**Well, no. It's too soon for that.**

**Did you tell him that?**

**Um....**

**He's a very bright boy, my friend. But he _is _a boy. And that means--**

"Trouble, yes, I know," Qui-Gon sighed. He looked down at his padawan. Obi-Wan's eyes were focussed on the floor. "Thank you, Master Mace. I don't think I'll be at that briefing, after all."

"I'll send you the reports, shall I?"

"Yes, thanks." 

The door slid closed behind the Jedi, leaving master and apprentice alone. 

"Sit down, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, nodding towards the chair the boy had been occupying. Obedient to the bitter end, he did. Qui-Gon pulled a chair of his own up beside him. "Now, you're going about this wrong, do you see? You disassembled it nicely, but it doesn't reassemble quite so easily; as I'm sure you've noticed."

Obi-Wan nodded, totally confused.

"You seem to grasp the mechanical theory, but more goes into constructing a lightsaber than that. Each Jedi must create his weapon personally, by hand." 

"Because of the crystals?"

"Because of the crystals."

"So I can't fix this?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, you can't. You ought not to have taken it apart. However, **I** ought to have remembered my promise. You're not to blame for your curiosity."

"I'll ask, first, next time," Obi-Wan promised.

"Very good."

"It came apart **way** easy, though," he added, thoughtfully. "Did you ever take apart Master Yoda's lightsaber?"

"Force, no!" His tone of voice made Obi-Wan laugh. "I did, however, manage to disable a transport."

"No way."

"Oh, yes. I was convinced it would be easy, you see."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I know the feeling."

"That's another story, though." Qui-Gon smiled, then very carefully set the focus crystals in the hilt of his lightsaber. He let his gaze turn inwards, seeking the calm centre of his soul; and, with the Force, aligned them perfectly. "There."

"No way I could have done that," Obi-Wan commented, clearly impressed.

"No way," Qui-Gon agreed. "At least, not yet. But later."

"How much later?"

"Later, later. When you've gone forward in your training."

"Everything is always later," Obi-Wan said, sounding disgusted.

The Master suppressed a laugh, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Some things are. Right now, however, I think it might not hurt to do a meditation exercise."

"Yes, sir. What should I meditate on?" Obi-Wan asked, slipping from his stool to the floor, and sinking into his mediation posture.

"We will meditate on patience, my padawan. I suspect we're going to need it," Qui-Gon said, a little rueful, settling down next to Obi-Wan.

"Both of us?"

"Both of us."

**Cool, **Obi-Wan thought.

Qui-Gon smiled to himself. 

------- 

"Have you learned anything tonight, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked, finally having lifted his head.

"Yes, master."

Obi-Wan used his best Wise Master voice. "And what have you learned?" 

"That if I make a mistake, tell Master Qui-Gon, 'cos all he'll make me do, is meditate?"

"I need another cup of tea," Qui-Gon announced, and fled like a coward into the kitchen. 

Ani turned to watch him go, then looked back at Obi-Wan... and grinned. "Just kidding, Master." Then he turned serious. "I guess I'm supposed to learn that-- that everyone does stuff wrong, sometimes, and that you have to just... try hard not to?"

"That's a good lesson, padawan," Obi-Wan said, slowly. He stood and offered his hand to Anakin, leading him to the kitchen. They looked in, and saw Qui-Gon, sitting on the floor, laughing hysterically and totally silently. 

"I think Master Qui-Gon needs to go to bed early," Anakin said.

"I think we all do," Obi-Wan said. "Good night, Master."

Qui-Gon waved a hand at him, helplessly.

"Come on, Ani. I'll put you to bed." As he turned, his Master's voice sounded in his head, very clearly.

**The next ten years should be interesting, my Obi-Wan.**

**Yes, well, you're right here with me, master. So don't get complacent.** And the sound of silent laughter followed him to bed.

END

   [1]: mailto:julndan@stormnet.com



End file.
